


Surprises

by ALoza



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALoza/pseuds/ALoza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hates surprises. Everyone knows that he does. It’s not a secret, not even remotely. So you can imagine his surprise when his day out with Lydia ends up with Derek proposing to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> The song playing is "Two Men in Love" by the Irrepressibles. So when the music starts in the story...yeah...I guess you could listen to what Stiles is listening to.
> 
> Enjoy the cheesiness of the story.

“Come shopping with me,” Lydia says, checking her make-up in her compact. She purses her red lips and raises and eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

Stiles closes his locker, sighing, “Just because I’m gay, doesn’t mean I like to shop. Especially for clothes. I mean. My dad even says that gay guys don’t dress like me, which is his way of telling that he thinks my clothes are ugly.” Stiles lingers on this. His father took the news of him being gay surprisingly well; the news that he was seeing Derek Hale, not so much. But after a year of family dinners, and seeing the way that Derek treated Stiles, he came around, eventually. 

Lydia has a glazed look on her face and she narrows her eyes. “I didn’t say we were shopping for you. Come shopping with me, so I can buy clothes for me.”

Exasperated, Stiles throws his hands up, “Why don’t you ask Allison?”

She waves her wrist, rolling her eyes strenuously, “Blah blah blah, something about being boring with Scott.”

“And you don’t have anyone else you can ask?” Stiles asks. 

“Really, Stiles, what’s the point of having a gay best friend if you can’t go shopping with him?” Lydia snaps.

“Fine, fine,” Stiles says. “Yes, Lydia Martin, I will go shopping with you.”

“Good,” she smiles, suddenly less sassy. “I’ll pick you up after class.”

“I have my jeep,” Stiles argues.

She raises an eyebrow, giving him an incredulous look, and says, “No,” before walking away, flipping her hair to the sway of her hips. She was going to be the death of him. 

Stiles texts Derek, telling him he’s going to late getting to his loft tonight. Very late. Lydia makes shopping look like an art form, and her stamina could last for days on end.

He waits for Derek’s response, a ‘Don’t be too long’, before returning to class. 

***

Lydia’s car smells like roses, which is nice, considering his own reeks of leftover food and sex. Derek, he recently learned, loves nothing more than hammering into Stiles in his car. Who needs a bed when your boyfriend is willing to give it to you then and there at moment’s notice?  
“What are we going shopping for exactly?” Stiles asks, drumming his fingers on his knees.

“I’m going to need you to not do that,” Lydia says. Stiles stops and she smiles wickedly. “Oh, a bit of everything. Clothes, maybe some shoes; I’ve been really bored with most of my accessories, so we’ll have to make some time to look at the jewelry counter. Bags, I’ve had this one for nearly two months, it’s time for a new one.”

“Jesus, Lyds,” Stiles sighs.

“First world problems,” Lydia jokes, but Stiles feels she’s entirely serious. Oh, the lives of the rich and the fabulous.

They sit in silence for a while, just listening to the other breathe. Lydia turns the radio dial and makes a face, “I hate that song.”

“So, you apply to any schools yet?” Stiles asks. 

It’s their senior year, and the anticipation of college applications have been getting to him. He never thought a boy would sway his decision making, but when that boy is Derek Hale...it’s difficult to not let it effect you. He wants to stay in California, close enough so that visits are within his budget, close enough to his dad, to Scott, who’s going to Beacon Hills community college, and close enough to Derek...

“Harvard, Brown, Yale,” Lydia lists. She’s number one in their graduating class, Stiles’ trailing behind her at number two, but his 4.5 is still staggeringly far away from her 5.2. “I’m keeping my options open.”

Stiles smiles. He’s glad she finally dropped the ditz act. He’s known for a while that she’s as smart as she beautiful, and since the whole werewolf-holy-crap-we-might-die thing, she hasn’t once pulled the ‘I read it on the Internet’ card. 

“You’ll probably get in to all of them,” Stiles laughs. 

“Well, depending on who can sweeten the pot with a scholarship, then I’ll make my decision,” Lydia says. “Where have you applied?”

“Stanford, Berkley, San Fran,” Stiles says. “I don’t want to move too far away.”

“You’re sweet,” Lydia says. She waits a moment, making sure Stiles isn’t going to say anything else. “So, how are you and Derek?”

“Good,” Stiles says, blushing. “Really good. Actually, it’s pretty damn great.”

“Cute,” Lydia says. “How’s the sex?”

Stiles’ eyes widen with embarrassment. “I’m not going to tell you about our sex life, Lydia?”  
“And why not?” she snaps, insulted.

“Because...it’s private,” Stiles says. But he does want to tell her, tell her that the sex is good, really good, so good that Stiles is sometimes left completely and utterly wrecked that he can barely move, barely even speak. So good that on average Derek makes it his personal mission to have Stiles’ come at least three times. So good that Derek always whispers ‘I love you’ into his skin before they drift into sleep. So fucking good.

“You have done it, haven’t you?” Lydia asks, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes, Lydia, we have had the intercourse,” he says. “Derek Hale, has indeed, deflowered me.”

“I’m just asking, virgins can be such prudes,” she says. “I can’t believe I know more about Ethan and Danny’s sex life than yours.”

“You know about Danny and Ethan’s sex life?” Stiles perks up. “Tell me.”

“Let’s just say that there’s a reason Danny only ever wears long sleeves,” Lydia hints.

Stiles’ stomach sinks. “Is Ethan biting him?”

“Biting, sucking, you name it, they’re doing it,” Lydia says.

Derek’s never bitten him, not hard anyways. He knows it’s a very intimate part of sex with a werewolf. Marking shows ownership, it’s a nice way of saying ‘Back the fuck off’. It’s not like Stiles doesn’t want Derek to claim him, because he does; it’s just the idea of being scarred, having your body mutilated just so other werewolves know you belong to someone already. 

“I didn’t know Danny was so kinky,” Stiles scrunches his nose. 

“The things Aiden and I have walked in on,” she says. “Danny redefines deep-throat.”

“Okay, too much information,” Stiles says. even though he feels himself growing hard thinking about it. 

***

 

Lydia ends up having more endurance than Stiles anticipated. It’s been hours, and the sun is already beginning to drop. 

“Do these look good?” she asks, modeling a pair of heels by a designer Stiles has never heard of or cares about.

“Yes, Lydia, those shoes look great with that little black dress, can we please leave?”

“No,” she says. “But, I will promise to hurry up if you do me a teensy weensy favor,” she says, smiling. 

“What?” he asks, scared. Is she going to quiz him? 

“If you let me play dress up with you,” she says.

“You want me to cross dress?” he asks. “I’m not going to fit into any of these shoes.”

“No, you idiot, there is a men’s department,” Lydia snaps.  
“Fine, fine, yes, okay, fine; if it means getting out of here before Valentines Day, yes, I will let you dress me,” Stiles says. 

“Perfect,” she smiles. Stiles has his doubts about her actually being a banshee. He’s more along the lines of thinking she’s a witch.

The men’s department is about a quarter of the size of the womens’, but isn’t that always the case? Lydia goes through the racks and Stiles follows behind her, carrying her bags. So many bags.

“This is cute,” she says, lifting a vest to Stiles’s chest. “Blue is good.”

“I like red better,” Stiles argues.

“No,” she says, returning to the racks. “Navy, I think.”

“Great, so my opinion doesn’t matter?” 

“No,” she says, like he’s annoying her. “Here, try these.” She pushes him into the dressing room, yanking her bags away, and closes the door securely. “I’ll be right outside.”

“‘Kay.”

It’s actually not that bad of an outfit. A plain, long white button up shirt, a navy vest with small pockets, and a pair of black slacks. He keeps his sneakers on, he likes the mismatched feel where formal and casual meet. There’s a long mirror in the small compartment and he looks at himself. Yeah, keeping his hair a bit longer was a good idea. It makes him look younger, softer, and it gives Derek something to pull in bed. The vest makes him look less like a preteen and more like a man. 

“Alright,” Stiles calls, “here I come.”

When he opens the door, Scott is standing there, smiling, and holding out a single rose. Stiles blinks confusedly and takes the flower.

“Uh, thanks, Scott, but...you know that I have a boyfriend already, right?”  
Scott laughs and hugs him tight, wrapping his arms around his waist.  
 “I love you, man,” he says, letting him go and leaving. 

Stiles stares blankly, “Um. Wait. What?”

He reaches the entrance to the dressing room but is stopped by Allison, who is smiling and holding up a rose, too. She reaches out and puts it in Stiles’ hands before hugging him, kissing his cheek. 

“Wait, is this a three-way invitation?” he asks. 

She laughs and rolls her eyes, then leaves. 

“What the hell is going on?” 

When he exits the dressing room, Isaac is waiting for him, holding a rose, like the others. Without thinking, Stiles reaches for the rose.

“I’m assuming that’s for me?” he asks, pointing. 

Isaac laughs and hands it to him, bumping his fist on his shoulder, and with his wolf-y speed, vanishes. 

“Lydia? Lydia where are you?” he snaps, spinning around, searching for the flash of red hair. 

That’s when the music begins pouring from above him. It’s different. It’s soft and delicate, accompanied by a silky voice, and Stiles closes his eyes. 

“Son?”

He spins back around and sees his dad, smiling shyly. He has his hands behind his back, and Stiles suspects he’s holding a rose. Confusion rattles through his bones. What? What in the hell is going on? 

“Uh, dad?” he asks. “Wh-what are you-I mean-how did-”

Sheriff Stilinski hugs his son, grasping his shoulders so tightly Stiles winces. He breaks away and kisses his forehead, placing one last rose into his hand, the music around him picking up, getting stronger, the heavy beat of a synthesizer melding perfectly with the quick and desperate sounds of an orchestra.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Stiles asks. 

“You’ve grown up, so much,” he huffs, and Stiles sees the corners of his eyes water. “Already eighteen.” He tenderly touches face. “Look just like your mother.”

“Dad, please, I don’t know-”

Sheriff Stilinski squeezes Stiles free hand, and Lydia taps his shoulder, smiling devilishly.

“Lydia, what the-”

She stops him, pressing a manicured finger to his mouth, shushing him. “Hush now. Also, I just finished paying this outfit; don’t waste it.”

Scott, Allison, and Isaac come out from behind a few clothes rack, mischievously grinning at him. Have they been possessed? Is he some sort of sacrifice. He thought all the bad things were behind him, that his senior year was going to go off without a hitch, and now -

“Stiles.”

He freezes. He’d recognize that voice anywhere, do anything to hear him speak his name again.  
Derek stands behind him, dressed sharply, a black tuxedo and his scruff nicely trimmed evenly. Cora bounces from behind him and she pecks a kiss on Stiles’ cheek before joining the others, who stare with anticipation at the two of them. 

“Derek...what’s going on?” Stiles asks, fear biting at his voice. 

Derek gulps and breathes through his mouth, nerves tightening around his heart. He blinks and Stiles and steps forward, taking Stiles’ free hand. The man singing keeps say “I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m love”. 

“Stiles,” Derek says, locking his perfectly cool hazel eyes with Stiles’ great big doe eyes, losing himself in them, drowning in them. “I love you. I’ve loved you the instant I first saw you but was too afraid to admit it to myself. I asked our friends and your father to be here because they love you, too. You are so incredibly loved, I need you to understand that. You’re kind and funny and sweet, you grate on my nerves and sometimes you drive me insane, but I never stop loving you.”   
Stiles’ heart thunders in his chest. Wait. What is he doing? Why is he suddenly kneeling? Holy mother-there’s no doubt in Stiles’ mind that there’s a ring in the smell box Derek is holding.

Derek laughs nervously, “Stiles...” He looks up and Stiles’ heart stops. Derek’s looking at him with such adoration, such kindness, he can barely stand. “Will you marry me?”

Everyone holds their breath and Stiles’ heart rams like a hammer in his chest. He blinks. Derek Hale just proposed to him. His boyfriend, Derek Hale, just asked him to marry, in front of his friends, in front of his father. 

He’s standing outside of a dressing room, in an outfit Lydia sneakily bought him, staring down at the man who just finished proposing to him. It’s surreal. He feels dizzy and light headed.

“Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, yes, of-of course, yes, Derek, I will marry you.”

He doesn’t notice that he’s crying. Derek breaks into a smile and places the silver band around Stiles’ finger. 

The others begin clapping and laughing, whistling and hollering. Stiles is embarrassed. They’re in a public place after all. 

Derek holds him in his arm, kissing his neck, clutching his body so hard it hurts, but it’s a good pain. He kisses him once, softly, remembering that Stiles’ father is standing behind him. 

Stiles gasps, murmuring "I love you”, soft enough so only Derek hears. He’s sobbing now, completely stricken, shocked, surprised. All of his least favorite things.

Derek feels his eyes sting and he buries his head in crook of Stiles’ shoulder, whispering “I love you, I love you so much” into the collar of his shirt. 

When they finally break apart, Stiles’ heart catches. Derek’s eyes, usually painfully ice blue when they change, are staring at him, glowing warmly, like gold.


End file.
